That's Something!
by Choice
Summary: One average day, Kurt Hummel lost his virginity to an average boy in an average suburban home. The sex, however, had been anything but average.


**That's Something!

* * *

**One average day, Kurt Hummel lost his virginity to an average boy in an average suburban home. The sex, however, had been anything _but_ average. Mind-blowing, heart-stopping, firework-inducing.. a whole slew of clichés could be used to describe it. Ask said average boy, and he'd shrug and say, "I'm a sex shark. Awesome sex is what I do." And then he'd waggle his brow and tell you all about what _else_ he did (including where, when and how often).

Would you believe it if Kurt told you said awesome sex was the problem?

* * *

"Anything?"

Kurt huffed a frustrated, distraught sigh. "No! It's just… nothing!" He gripped himself for emphasis. He was glad his relationship with Blaine was laid-back enough that he could grope himself in front of the other boy without getting odd looks or being judged. Over the years, Kurt had found it was something you just couldn't pull off with your girl friends.

Blaine huffed and skipped to the next selection. They'd been watching Blaine's porn DVDs since classes had ended half an hour ago. By the end of the kinky Headmaster roleplay porno, Blaine was uncomfortably fidgeting on the couch beside Kurt, who was…

Kurt tugged the hem of his pants open, peering down. "…Damn it, nothing!" He sighed for a melodramatically long amount of time before glancing over at Blaine. "But now you've got me thinking…" he said with a frown. "Just how _mandatory_ are those weekly one-on-one Warblers club check-ins with Headmaster Collins?" If he were the type to do tacky air-quotes, he would've air-quoted the _heck_ out of that one.

"So!" Blaine announced, voice practically spewing enthusiasm. "You're practically defunct at being a normal teenage boy. That's something!"

Kurt glowered at the other boy. "I hate you," he muttered, chucking a beaded throw pillow at Blaine's amused face.

* * *

_"Wait, lemme see if I'm gettin' this right… you're calling me to ask for my help with a problem I've only heard about since just now?"_

Kurt sighed at Mercedes' pissed-off tone. He understood where she was coming from, but it was hard to keep her updated with every little thing that happened to him now that he was practically living at Dalton. He said just as much. "Besides," he added, "It's not like someone as ridiculously brilliant as you needs any time to bust a case, boo."

_"Flattery will get you nowhere."_ He could practically _see_ her grinning. Score! _"So… you can't have sex? Is that what this is all about? Kurt, you know how hard it is to find guys who would be willing to bone other guys, let alone guys who are out of the closet…"_

"What? No, that's not it. 'Cedes, what I mean is… literally. I can't have sex."

_"At all?"_

"No."

_"Does it…"_ She awkwardly giggled. _"Does it _work_, or…?"_

"Of course it works!" Kurt cried, scandalized. He frowned after a moment of indignant silence. "Well… sort of."

_"And by sort of, you mean…"_

Kurt sighed. "I mean that I can't get hard unless I think of Puck."

_"Hold up, thinking of _Puck_ makes you horny? Since when?"_

Kurt winced, mentally preparing himself for Round Two of the Wrath of Mercedes Jones. "Oh, didn't I tell you?" he asked casually. "Last weekend I-ah, I might have… Pucksortoftookmyv-card."

_"…Are you for real?"_ Mercedes snapped. _"You seriously forgot to tell me that you lost your _virginity_ to the dipshit who used to use our faces for target practice? With slushies? For _fun?_ I'll have you know that I'm seriously reconsidering this relationship of ours."_

"I'll make it up to you," Kurt said quickly before Mercedes could hang up on him. If he had any hope in hell of solving this… this _issue_, he would stay in his diva-in-crime's good graces, no matter what that entailed. "Name your price."

_"Oh, forget that shit. Imma have to write you a _list_, which I'll give to you the next time I see you and-oh yeah! That'd better not be sometime next _year_, alright Kurt? We're best friends, not _pen pals._"_

Well, there's one way to feel like a totally worthless, steaming pile of shit. "I got you, 'Cedes. So… can you help me?"

Mercedes sighed long and slow before reluctantly saying, _"Sure. What're best friends for, right?"_

* * *

Mercedes' plan was simple: go out with as many guys as possible, see if any of them make you hard. It was sort of slutty, but Kurt was desperate and Mercedes was hell-bent on revenge so it all panned out quite nicely for both parties involved.

Kurt didn't have too much trouble roping Blaine into the scheme and by the time the end of the day rolled around, Kurt had himself three consecutive dates lined up.

"We can do this," Kurt told his reflection. He nodded with a serious frown, looking down at his briefs-covered dick. "We can _do_ this."

He tried thinking of a shirtless Johnny Depp, hoping against hope that the usually drool-worthy fantasy would get him a twitch, a stir, _something_. He grimaced when Johnny's hair morphed into a mohawk. Seconds later, Kurt was struggling to get his pants on without permanently damaging himself and Puck was grinning up a storm as he ran along a Caribbean beach in Kurt's mind's eye.

Kevin was his first date of the evening, a tall, willowy brunette with cute freckles painting the bridge of his nose. He was surprisingly easy to get with the horizontal program, but all the heavy petting in the world couldn't make Kurt's junk get into it.

Kevin, Kurt's dick decided, was _not_ in the program.

Neither was Harry, who ironically looked more like Draco Malfoy than the Boy-Who-Lived. Kurt fervently believed, defunct dick or not, that _no one_ under the age of twenty-five should try to pull off slicked-back hair.

Matthew was sort of harder to loosen up. Kurt had to foreplay his _ass_ off. Kurt thought he had a fighting chance with Matthew beneath him, panting and grinding his impressive boner up against-oh fuck.

Kurt felt bad when Matthew looked sort of insecure at Kurt's lack of "interest", but the feeling passed when the other boy kneed him in the groin (yeah, _ow_) and called him a cold, heartless bastard before hightailing it out of Kurt's dorm.

Blaine appeared from where he'd been hiding under their dorm's chaise, sighing in disappointment. "I'd say it wasn't as bad as it seemed, but…"

Kurt groaned and face-planted into his pillow, still gripping his smarting package. Well, that plan had played out fan_tastically_.

* * *

_"Really? Ouch!"_

Kurt pouted as Mercedes guffawed through the line. "'Cedes, come on! This isn't funny anymore! I'm actually considering _telling my dad_ about this," Kurt whispered, as if his father were lurking around in his dorm. "I don't want my dad to _explode_, Mercedes."

Mercedes' end went irritatingly quiet for a few moments. Kurt had a feeling he wouldn't like whatever harebrained Plan B Mercedes concocted. _"Okay, here's what you're gonna do."_

* * *

This, Kurt thought, had to be the worst idea in the history of ides. The Chosen One of bad ideas. The one bad idea to rule them all. The-well, you got it, right?

It was anyone's guess why he found himself knocking on Puck's front door without a flaming bag of shit to leave on the welcome mat.

The door creaked open to Puck, dressed in a pair of Pokemon boxers that really shouldn't be so endearing. "…Kurt? What're _you_ doin' here?"

"Gee, nice to see you too," Kurt retorted, but it sounded more like unintentional flirting to him. Judging by Puck's surprised expression, it really was unintentional.

"Sorry, I was expecting the Dominos guy, 's all." He stepped back and got Kurt to come inside. "So, what brings you to Chez Puckerman, Mr. Garbler?"

"_Warbler,_ Puck, Dalton Academy's glee club are called the _Warblers_. Therefore, I am a _War_-"

"Yeah, to-may-to to-mah-to. So what can I do you for?"

"I need you to… do something for me." Kurt hated being so vague, but not everyone could be as blatant and in-your-face as Puck.

"Do something?" Puck asked with a leer. "Does this _something_ happen to be your dick?"

If Kurt was a crayon, he'd be Mortified Magenta right about now. "…Yes, actually."

Puck blinked. "Dude, I was just kidding around."

"Yeah, well _dude,_ I'm not." Kurt huffed and threw himself onto Puck's living room couch. "You broke me. When we had sex," he clarified, but it did nothing to put an end to Puck's confused staring.

"What do you mean by _broke_, exactly?" he said slowly. "You don't mean-you don't have AIDS, do you? 'Cause I know _I'm_ clean, and-"

"Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm automatically HIV or AIDS-positive," Kurt testily said. Puck wasn't known for his brains, but he was smart enough to know when he should've kept his mouth shut. Kurt sighed when Puck grimaced in silent apology. "When I say you broke me, I mean… you broke my dick."

Puck looked aghast. "I-what, broke it, like, in _half?_ Oh my god dude, I am so, so sorry! Like, if they made Hallmark cards for breaking another dude's junk, I'd buy you a fuckton. Oh my god…"

"Puck, stop being ridiculous," Kurt snapped although he was more amused than angry at that point. "Let's just say… my pecker only pecks for your pecs."

"Um."

"Okay-you're the Captain of my semen."

"What the _fuck_ man!" Puck laughed.

Kurt restrained himself from reaching out and strangling Puck, but only just. "You're the only one who can give my dog a boner!"

"Saywhaaa?" Puck snickered. "You're, like, speaking in tongues, man! Good thing my ma's not home, or else she'd totes call the Jewish exorcist on-"

Kurt scowled. "I can't get it up without you, goddammit!"

Puck froze. "Woah. I knew I was _good_, but… wha?"

"Puck, there are only so many ways I can dumb it down for you to understand!" Kurt cried. "In a nutshell-Puck, stop laughing!-case in point-okay, there was nothing perverted about _that_-simply put, when you fucked the virgin out of me that night, you might've taken more than my v-card." he paused. "You're not a cyborg, are you?" Kurt suddenly demanded. As sad as it sounded, having a computer chip implanted in his prostate was starting to sound like a plausible possibility.

"Nooo," Puck said slowly. "But I am a sex shark?"

"Literally?" Kurt asked, completely serious. "Are you actually a sex shark? What _is_ a sex shark, exactly? Is it a shark that sexes, or-"

"Oh my god, shut _up_. You're starting to sound like Jewfro, with all your questions. No, I'm not an actual sex shark. At least…" Puck frowned. "I don't think I am."

Kurt sighed. "Nice to know."

After a moment of staring at each other, Puck said, "So… can you think of me and get off just like that?" He snapped his fingers for emphasis.

Kurt flushed, shrugging a bit. "I can get sort of hard, but that's about it."

"And it's been, what? A week, and you haven't come? Man, I'm sorry," Puck said remorsefully.

"If you were _sorry_, you'd help me out here." Kurt grumbled, folding his arms across his chest while glaring at Puck.

Puck smirked. "Don't need to tell me twice." He unceremoniously shoved his hands down Kurt's pants, and Kurt felt like crying in relief when his dick went from semi-hard (just from being in Puck's presence, for god's sake) to solid steel. "So if I told you to come right now-"

Not a moment later, Kurt choked on a cry and bucked into Puck's open fist, coming just like that. He had to brace his hands against Puck's shoulders to keep from falling, turning a brilliant shade of red. "Oh my _god…_"

Puck didn't laugh at Kurt for coming so quickly, at least. If anything, he looked a little turned-on but mostly intrigued, like he was learning the ropes of a new video game. "Aaand if I still want you to be able to fuck, like, now?" Puck asked no one in particular.

Kurt yelped: just like that, he was right back at square one, painfully hard as if he'd never even come in the first place.

A slow, _evil_ grin settled on Puck's face, and Kurt was sullen to admit just how much that the look turned him on. "Oh, this is gonna be _fun_..."


End file.
